Dream Weaver
by smanfan
Summary: Sam and Dean are out on the road, while stopping at a small diner they come across an odd symbol. It soon leads them to discover a supernatural creature causing deaths in the town. It's up to the Winchester boys to stop the creature and save its next vict


**I do not own Supernatural, Dean or Sam.**

**This is my first Fan Fiction, constructive reviews appreciated!**

Dreamweaver

Dean sat in the car, one hand gripping the black steering wheel of his black Chevy impala. "Hey Sam, you want to grab one of those tapes out of the glove compartment?"

asked Dean. Leaning forward, Sam clicked open the compartment and grabbed the first classic rock tape in sight. Popping the cassette into the radio he tapped the play

button and raised the volume. Soon they were cruising down a country road in Massachusetts, with the song "Dream weaver" humming in the background. The road was

narrow, and weaved through thick areas of forest. Small houses dotted the landscape. The guys were getting hungry, and knew they needed to stop somewhere soon. Dean

kept driving until he finally located a main road in the friendly town. "So, where are we heading next Dean?" Sam asked, wondering what odd phenomena he would be

exposed to next. Sam liked being with his brother and helping out his Dad. And even saving people. But he still always had the thoughts of a normal life hanging in the back

of his mind. Dean turned his head slowly, drumming his fingers on the armrest to the beat of the song. "I don't know yet, we haven't gotten any calls form Dad yet. Plus we

haven't even seen anything in the news lately." Turning his eyes back on the road, he noticed a small diner up ahead. It looked like a local place, painted white with a small

sign above the door.

Sam and Dean got out of the car, feeling the crisp spring air hit heir faces. Sam slipped his hands into his jean pockets and began walking on the gravel parking lot towards

the door. Dean followed close behind, running his hand once through his short, spiked brown hair. The Winchester brothers walked up the small steps and opened the door.

The bells released a melodious tune as the door closed with a thud. The people of the diner silenced, taking a minute to inspect the new arrivals, then quickly resumed their

banter. The place seemed as normal as it gets, not to cozy and friendly, but not to lonesome and withdrawn. This area of Massachusetts seemed like any other town with

its ups and downs. Sam and dean walked across the tile, their boot squeaking on the floor. They both plopped down on two stool at the counter. Sam sat down next to a

bearded man with glasses, a plaid shirt and a hat. Looking briefly over, Sam said politely "Morning". The man replied politely with a similar greeting. Dean just rolled his

eyes, why was his brother such a softie all the time? He sure was going to start toughening up when he met more odd people on their travels. A short woman with a dark

complexion walked up to the counter. Dusting her hands off on her somewhat clean apron she asked the pair what they would like. "Uh, give two eggs over easy, toast, and

a black coffee." Dean said, not seeming to care what he ate, as long as he ate. Sam sat for a minute, inspecting the menu, his eyes seemed glued to the bottom corner of one

page. Dean nudged Sam with his elbow impatiently, "Oh!" Sam stuttered" Get me two pancakes and sausage with orange juice." The woman nodded, and looked at Sam as

if he had two heads for a minute, than bustled off to the kitchen. Dean looked over at same, his hazel eyes held demeaning glance. "Geez man, what took you so long. You

were staring at that menu like it was more amazing than the hook man..." Dean said in a harsh, but hushed voice. Sam held an unwavering stare as looked at his brother. Sam

knew when had found their next mission. "Look at this!" Sam said, gesturing towards the shiny, laminated menu. Dean opened it up to the sixth page. Towards the bottom

of the page someone had written in some sort of symbol. It was a circle with a swirling line across it. Sam pointed to it, and said in a quiet voice "See, I saw it on your

menu, and on that guy with the beard's menu!. I know we've seen something similar somewhere...but where." Sam's chocolate colored eyes glanced up with a serious look at

Dean. The two stared at each other, with frowns forming across their faces. They were lost deep in thought, trying to remember where they had seen it.

Just then the small waitress bustled over again, taking short, but quick steps. "Here ya go, eat up." She said in a strong Boston accent, seeming to forget there was a "r" in

her words. Sam and Dean quickly lost their train of thought and looked to their meals. Sam thanked the woman and they both stared at their plates of steaming food. Dean

started cutting up his breakfast with the shiny silverware he had been given. "Aren't you gonna eat?" Dean questioned Sam, motioning towards the plate of fresh food

sitting before his brother. Sam looked up at him briefly " Yeah" he replied. Soon returning his gaze to his food. Sam wondered how such weird things could happen yet his

brother always kept his cool. Dean and Sam finished up their meals deep in thought. As the brothers began rising from the squeaky wooden stools Dean said " Excuse me

sir, do you know what this is, the symbol?" He pointed to the bottom corner of the sixth page of the diner menu. The bearded man looked over " aah,well that's on just

about all the menus. Probably kids trying to cause trouble." The man replied, adjusting the patriots baseball cap on his head. Seeing that he probably wasn't going to get any

more information without looking odd, Dean headed for the door. Sam walked out with Dean close behind.

As they stepped outside Sam pulled a local paper from the inside of his coat. "Check this out" he said, gesturing to the front page. The paper read: Fourth death in two

weeks. It said the causes were unknown, and all had died in their sleep. Also all had been form this area...One of the victims had been a college girl named Caren. Dean was

already figuring out how to find this girl's home. Dean started walking away, hid boots crunching on dead leaves the wind had blown onto the parking lot. "Stay here" was

all he said to Sam. "What? what are you doing?" Sam hollered after his older brother. Sam walked over to a bench in front of the diner. Sitting down he looked around the

town. Down the street was a small church surrounded by tall trees. The old paint beginning to peel, but the place still looked welcoming. Sam noticed no cars in the parking

lot. There must not be a mass right now, he thought. Turning his head he felt a small sting on his head. Reaching up to scratch his head of thick brown hair, he heard a

mosquito buzz off. "Great, it's only spring and the bugs are out." Sam muttered under his breath. He saw a small, yellow country store too. Where a few cars were parked

in front. Soon the sound of bells rang through the morning air. Sam whipped his head around to see Dean heading down the steps. Dean started talking, pouring out

information."Ok, I know how we'll be able to find one of the victim's family. We need to wait outside a church where they are having a service for her. Now just have to

find the church." Dean's brow creased as he knew finding this place would be difficult. The people of the diner could only give him a description for some odd reason. The

older of the two began walking to the car, his hazel eyes glued to the newspaper he held. "Is it that small one over there?" Sam asked, raising his hand to point out the small

white church down the road. Dean looked up, his eyes squinted as he peered at the small building. Then his expression turned to surprise " uh, yeah I guess so, that looks

like the one the guy described. " Dean replied. Dean opened up the car door, telling Sam they would need to go to the church at six. "Hey Dean how did you get the

information?" Sam questioned, wondering what scheme his brother had come up with this time. "I just said I was one of the girl's good friends from college, and that we

used to talk everyday." He replied with a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

A couple hours later they were sitting in a small motel room. Dean had their Dad's journal out and was flipping through the aged, yellow tinted pages. Meanwhile Sam had

the laptop on as he searched the internet, and all the files of their computer for the symbol from the diner. Trying to find out if the symbol and the deaths were somehow

connected. The glow of the computer screen lit one end of the dimly lit room."Hey Sammy, look at this!" Dean rose form his spot on the bed and placed the book on the

desk where Sam was sitting. Sam' eyes glazed over the pages, and finally came to the symbol. It was etched in pen,and there was writing beneath it. In their Dad's chicken

scratch style penmanship. It read: Dream weaver symbol, type of spirit, takes control of brain in dreams when depressed...can kill. "What are we going to do, you think

this is it?" Sam said in rushed words. "Well, everyone died in their sleep, we just have to find out if the people were depressed or anything when the went to sleep. Because

that is the only when the spirit can make you die. When you go to bed sad, the spirit can take hold of your thoughts and force you to see yourself die in your

dream...causing you to die. It can't happen when your happy though, the spirit isn't strong enough to take over your brain when your in a good mood, they also tend to

stay in one town or state..." Dean said coolly. Sam typed the word Dream weaver into the computer and located only one file. Quickly skimming through it he found the

answer. "Ok, it says here that this was some sort of folktale or at least some people believe that's all it is. It says legend has it that the only way to get rid of the spirit, and

even kill it is by saying something odd in Latin and then awakening the person just before they are about to die. Since that is when the spirit is showing itself to the normal

world the most. So now we just have to figure out who it's going to hit next.." Sam said, his expression turning to a frown. Dean looked up from his intent, but blank stare

at the floor. His train of thought broken. "Well, I bet it will hit one of the most vulnerable people...someone close to one of the victims...That's why we better get to that

church. " Dean said in a demanding voice.

Hours later the brothers had parked the jet black car in the church parking lot. Dean and Sam gazed out the window at the church doors, waiting to see people come out

from the service. Finally, they began seeing the people emerge from the brightly lit chapel and walk into the dark night. Sam and Dean leapt out of the car and began walking

over. Sam walked up to a young girl who looked like she was in high school. Her eyes were brimming with tears. Her shoulder length, dark brown hair was straight with her

bangs falling into her eyes. Dean stood next to Sam as he began talking to the girl. "Excuse me, did you know Caren Johnson?" He asked. The girl replied "Yeah she was a

good friend of mine, why?" in a choked up voice. "Well.. I-I was a friend of hers from college and I wanted to find her mom to just tell her how sorry I was about her loss.

Could you point her out to me?" Sam asked, his eyes filling with a tense look. Dean's hazel eyes darted around the parking lot as Sam talked, looking for someone who

looked like the girl in the photo. The brown haired girl looked around the lot, then to the chapel doors. "There she's is, the woman with the short red hair." She replied,

taking a tissue from her coach purse. ""Thank you" Dean said in a rushed voice, and he grabbed his brother by the arm and started heading over quickly. Dean decided to let

his brother start the talking, he was better at talking to people. Actually, Dean thought, he was a little too good at all that mushy, understanding stuff.

Soon the pair caught up to the woman, who they could hear her crying as they followed. Finally catching up, they knew she was probably going to be the next victim.

"Ma'm, Ma'm could we speak with you?" The small woman turned, hugging her black coat around herself. Her eyes were red from crying, and she had a package of tissues

stuffed into her pocket. "What do you want?" She asked, her voice sad and depressed. She sounded so sad...like part of her life had disappeared right before her eyes, and

she would never get it back. Sam looked at his brother, then cautiously back to the mother of the victim. " Well, we were friends of your daughter. My brother and I just

wanted to say how sorry we were about this great loss. It must be really hard. We also wondered if you knew what happened, the papers didn't say anything." Sam gazed

at her with an unwavering, sympathetic stare. The woman grabbed a tissue, blowing her nose yet again. "Thank you" she said. "and. I do not know what happened, she just

sounded like she was having a nightmare..then it all went silent. I went into her room when I first heard her yelling...but by then she was gone..." The woman began crying,

tears pouring down her pink cheeks. She began stumbling off to her car, sobbing, after telling them she had to go. Sam and Dean now knew it

was definitely a dream weaver if the girl had acted like she had a nightmare. They knew what had to been done now, because the mother was going t be the next victim since

she was in such a depressed state.

Dean slammed on the gas pedal as the tires hummed rhythmically against the tar. They followed the small Volvo the red headed mother owned down the road. The black

Chevy sped through the local area, the trees flew by the windows in a dark blur. Dean held the steering wheel with a tense grip. Meanwhile Sam gazed out the window,

repeatedly running his hand through his medium length brown hair. As if the motion would somehow relieve his worries. Time was against them, it was a race between the

brothers and the spirit. Who would get their before the woman got to sleep. Would they be there to awaken her at just the right time before she died?

Dean slowly pulled up to the curb in front of the woman's small yellow house. Peering into out the car window, he saw her walking into her living room in her pajamas to

turn on the TV. She sat for about twenty minutes...then shut it off and headed to another room. They suspected it was the bedroom. Sam looked over to his brother "How

are we going to know when she's sleeping?" Dean pulled a small gadget from the inside of his Car hart coat." This, we can tell when ghosts are around with it, so when the

dream weaver comes...that would be when she's asleep, so we will know when to go in. " Dean stared tensely at the device in his hands. Sam looked over briefly and

suddenly made a connection. "Dean, I read online that people who are about to become victims or have lost someone due to the spirit tend to draw that symbol. So that

explains the menus!" Dean looked over, opening his mouth to reply but suddenly the gadget began lighting up and making a small beeping noise. "Here we go, come on

Sammy, lets do this." They got out of the car, and flipped open the trunk. Weapons of all different sorts sat before them. Sam opened up a folder and grabbed the sheet

with the Latin words on it. HE had looked up the pronunciation of each one. While Dean grabbed a bag of rock salt to help get rid of and hopefully kill the spirit.

Dean flipped open his swiss army knife. Finding the smallest knife on it he began working at the lock. After about five minutes he got it. The door swung open, squeaking

on its hinges. The sound echoed into the dark, silent kitchen. They walked in quietly, looking around cautiously. Every corner of the house seemed so dark, so frightening.

Dean held the small device still ,following its lead until the meter began going crazy as it lead them to the bedroom door. He shut it off quickly, so the sound didn't wake the

woman. Dean put his hand on the doorknob, turning it slowly...not sure what to expect to see on the other side. As the pale white door opened to a dark room, they

noticed the woman comfortably asleep in her bed. Sam followed close behind Dean into the room. His eyes darted around as his hands shook slightly as he held the papers.

He whispered into Dean's ear "How do we know when we she's is about to die in the dream?" His hushed voice was barely heard. "We gotta guess." Dean replied. Sam bit

his lip in aggravation... there was a slim chance this was going to work .Suddenly, the woman began tossing around in her bed, muttering things under her breath. Dean

looked to his brother briefly then back to the woman. They just had to wait...until they thought it was the right moment. Suddenly the woman began rolling around

violently, her voice getting louder. Dean began spreading the salt around the bed. Sam opened up the papers and began reading the odd Latin words before his eyes. He

stuttered through the words as the woman began to scream in her bed. She was tossing around so much they wondered how she had not fallen off the bed yet. Dean

finished spreading the salt and stood at the woman's side, waiting to awaken her. Sam rushed through the end part of the reading. "Ok, man, do it wake her up now! She's

screaming, its going to happen!" Sam said loudly, his voice full of worry and stress. "Okay okay!" Dean hollered back. Her began shaking the woman, and trying to waken

her from the ultimate nightmare. Nothing happened, suddenly she thrashed over in dean's direction so quickly, her ring scraped dean down the side of his face. He staggered

backwards, blood running down his cheek. Sam bolted forward and began shaking the woman, yelling and hollering for her to wake up. Meanwhile Dean, wincing with pain

came over. The brothers kept trying to awaken the woman, but it seemed they had come too late, she wasn't waking up! Then suddenly, the room felt as cold as a freezer.

All went silent, including the woman, who just lay peacefully in her bed with her eyes beginning to flutter open. A darks shadow suddenly appeared in the air above the

woman, it was the spirit. It made a sort of hissing sound, then dispersed into the air.

The brothers said their goodbyes to the woman, after explaining the long story to her. She waved them off, thanking them. She shut the door with

a amazed look on her face. Dean looked to his brother "Well lets get out of here." Opening the door to his impala Dean hopped in and turned the

key. The engine started up immediately. Sam opened up his door and sat down on the black leather seat. "Dean, you think she's going to be

ok?" Sam asked as he looked to the small yellow house once more. Dean began pulling away form the curb. "Yeah, she might not ever really

believe us but she'll be fine. Well, now we can hit the road again." Dean leaned over and pressed play on the radio. Dream weaver hummed

from the speakers of the stereo. Sam looked over at his brother once, the back to the open road. The Chevy sped along, as they headed off to

find their next adventure.


End file.
